


The Princess and the Swamp

by vvitchering (Witchering)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fear, Found Family, Gen, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Misunderstandings, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Witcher Potions (The Witcher), Young Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27613615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchering/pseuds/vvitchering
Summary: Jaskier travels with Geralt and Ciri as they make their way across the Continent to the safety of Kaer Morhen. When an unfortunate situation leaves both the witcher and the princess emotionally wounded, Jaskier is left to pick up the pieces.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 121





	The Princess and the Swamp

Jaskier likes Geralt’s child surprise. He wouldn’t say children are his forte by any stretch, but Ciri is bright and courageous and so endearingly curious. She listens with wide eyes and rapt attention to his stories and songs, soaking up the details like a sponge and pleading for more. And it’s nice to have someone around who actively engages with his entertaining rather than simply tolerate it, _thank you very much, Geralt._ It’s also nice to see how simply having her around has noticeably softened the witcher. Geralt smiles more often. He allows Ciri to clutch at his hand and tuck into his side whenever she likes. When her nightmares cause her to cry out in the night, he provides comfort as best he can. All in all, Jaskier is impressed. Geralt of Rivia, known hard-ass, well on his way to becoming a fine father figure. Who would have thought? 

But in the bard’s experience, when things are going too well, when they seem too good to be true, that’s when fate most enjoys fucking everything up.

* * *

It starts in a swamp. Jaskier hates swamps. They smell, they ruin his clothes, and they’re notoriously treacherous for travelers, filled as they are with all manner of dangerous slimy creatures. Geralt takes point, holding Roach’s reins in one hand, his silver sword at the ready in the other. Jaskier trudges beside the horse, thoroughly disgusted by the squelching sounds his boots make in the muck. Ciri sits atop Roach, dutifully playing lookout after being rescued from mud that came up to her knees. 

Every strange echoing sound has her twisting in the saddle, fearfully checking their surroundings. Geralt had begun identifying the various animal calls, in an attempt to calm her nerves. The shrieking in the distance was an owl. The rustling in the trees was a small herd of deer. Jaskier chimes in that Geralt is most likely the most terrifying thing in their general vicinity, which makes Ciri smile, albeit a little shakily. 

They plod along for what feels like hours until Geralt suddenly stops. Jaskier can almost see the hackles rising on the witcher’s back. He’s traveled with Geralt long enough to know the signs of a witcher sizing up a yet unseen threat. Wordlessly, Geralt thrusts Roach’s reins into Jaskier’s hands and takes off into the trees. 

“What’s going on? Where is he going?” Ciri asks fearfully.

“Not to worry, Princess. Our fearless leader is simply, hmm, clearing the path ahead.” Jaskier responds, making sure to keep his tone light and jaunty. 

He tugs at the reins and begins leading Roach and Ciri in a wide berth from the direction Geralt had taken off in. Geralt would be able to easily find their trail and rejoin them later, once the threat was eliminated. 

“Will he be alright?” 

“Of course! Believe me when I say that there is nothing living in this godsforsaken sludge that can best our dear witcher.”

It’s an anxiety filled hour before Geralt returns. He’s covered in a mix of mud and monster guts and he’s clutching at a bleeding wound on his left arm that looks alarmingly like something tried to take a bite out of him. 

“Kikimore. Big one.” he grunts, coming to lean against Roach’s flank. 

“Saying it like that implies that small ones exist, which is profoundly untrue.” Jaskier says, already reaching to inspect the damaged arm.

Geralt raises his head and Jaskier is met with blackened eyes and a deathly pale face. Geralt clearly had a harder time with the beast than he’s letting on, if he had to take enough of his potions for this to happen again. It’s only due to his deep familiarity with Geralt that Jaskier doesn’t flinch away from the sight. He knows Geralt doesn’t enjoy the effect his altered appearance has on people. Ordinarily, he knows the witcher prefers to take his time returning after a particularly intense battle, if only to give his eyes time to fade back to their usual golden color. He doesn’t like being seen looking like the kin of the creatures he kills. 

As preoccupied as he is with staunching Geralt’s wound and trying to find the others the man is almost certainly trying to keep hidden, Jaskier doesn’t notice the hitching panicked noises from their young ward until Roach tosses her head in alarm. 

Ciri is terrified. Her eyes are huge, tears threatening to fall any second, and she’s shaking so violently Jaskier fears she may fall out of the saddle completely. Geralt reaches his good arm out to take her small hand in the way he usually does to calm her when she’s frightened, but she jerks her whole body away at the motion with a small cry. It’s as if Geralt was slapped the way he stumbles back, his eerie eyes blinking in confusion and hurt. It’s not an expression Jaskier is used to seeing and it makes his chest feel tight. 

“Ciri? It’s okay, he’s okay, there’s nothing to be scared of, sweet girl, come now.” Jaskier soothes, reaching up to pluck the terrified girl from the saddle. 

Ciri immediately clings to Jaskier, still shaking like a leaf, hiding increasingly hysterical sobs in the front of his doublet. Jaskier holds her tightly, making comforting sounds, doing what he can to calm her panic.

“What could have possibly frightened her so much, I don’t understand, it’s not as though she’s never seen blood before--”

Geralt, in the commotion, has stepped a few feet away and turned his back to them, hiding his face from view. His voice is quiet when he speaks. 

“It’s me. She’s scared of me.”

With Ciri clutching him like a lifeline, her little face buried in his chest in fear, Jaskier really can’t deny that fact. 

“I’ll go, I’ll find somewhere to wait until the potion wears off, I…” Geralt’s voice is oddly strained and his words trail off uncertainly.

In all his years of knowing the witcher, he’s never known Geralt to back down from anything. His confidence has always been unshakable, except, it seems, in the presence of one very frightened little girl. 

Jaskier rubs what he hopes are calming circles on Ciri’s back and watches helplessly as Geralt turns tail and flees back into the trees. 

Ciri’s shaking sobs eventually ease off into gentle hiccups. Jaskier holds her through it all. When she finally calms enough to loosen her grip on him, he risks pulling her back slightly to see her face. Her green eyes are red and swollen from crying and her pale cheeks are blotchy and tear-streaked. Her lip still quivers slightly as her gaze darts around them, searching for danger. 

“It’s alright. There’s nothing here to hurt you.” Jaskier tells her. 

“I’m sorry.” Ciri says, lowering her gaze.

Jaskier shifts slightly, adjusting her weight, and frowns in confusion. 

“Sorry for what?”

“For crying so much. Grandmother used to say it wasn’t proper for a princess to cry like that in front of others. But I was scared. It was like a nightmare.” 

As she speaks, Ciri seems to relax slightly, and Jaskier sets her down on his feet on a nearby boulder that juts up from the muck. He takes her small clammy hands in his.

“First of all, never be ashamed of your emotions. Crying is perfectly natural when you’re frightened, princess or not.” Jaskier says, and Ciri nods hesitantly.

“Second, would you like me to explain what you saw? It may help you be less afraid.”

Ciri nods again, a bit more vigorously. 

“You know that Geralt is a witcher. His job is to keep people safe from monsters. Sometimes that means he has to take certain potions to keep himself safe. They’re very poisonous to us humans, but they give witchers the strength they need to vanquish any beast.” Jaskier explains. 

“Unfortunately, they do tend to have side effects. They turn the eyes and veins black, as you saw. Geralt has traveled alone for so long, you see, sometimes he forgets how scary that can be for others. I know for certain he never meant to scare you.”

Ciri’s face scrunches adorably as she frowns. 

“So...Geralt is alright?”

Jaskier blinks.

“I saw him like that and I thought he was hurt and dying. So many people have died because of me.” Ciri says and she looks as though she may begin to cry again, but she raises her chin and continues. “I don’t want to lose Geralt, too. Or you. Or anyone else. I don’t want to be alone again!”

“Oh, darling.” Jaskier says and leans forward to gather the shaken girl in his arms again. She hadn’t been scared of Geralt at all, the brave thing. Geralt had shown up looking like the worst kind of ghoulish creature and Ciri had feared so much for _his_ well-being that it had thrown her into hysterics. He squeezes her tight for a few moments, then helps her back into Roach’s saddle. 

“One more thing you should know about witchers, and this might be the most important thing of all because they’ll never admit it, Geralt certainly won’t. They don’t like to be alone either.” Jaskier says.

Ciri considers that as Jaskier fusses with the reins and seems to come to a conclusion that satisfies her. 

“We should go find him.” she announces.

Jaskier grins and basks in the pride he feels for this miraculous child. 

“And so we shall.”

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I liked it too much to abandon. Hopefully there's not too obvious of a difference between what I wrote a while back and what I wrote more recently. I have Feelings about Jaskier getting to hone his paternal instincts while Geralt hides in the bushes and hates himself for scaring his kid :')
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr and Twitter for more witcher nonsense @vvitchering


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